St. Landry democrat., 1887-07-09

murderer. Pussy is decidedly useful
when she pursues the willy and destruc-
tive rat, and quite ornamental as she lies
| coiled up before the fire winters even
| ing, purring song of contentment. but
no one would suppose the taking OF her
| life involved such momentous conse-
quences.
The belief that Friday is an unlucky
dav has a wide and extended habitat, all
over the Christian world in fact. 1t is
robust, hardy tradition, that thrives
regardless of soil or climate, and grows
equally luxuriant in the stony-hearted
city as in the generous soil of the remote
farm We find it blossoming in the fore
castle of the ship, in the office of the
merchant, in the stately mansion and in
the laborer's hut, ubiquitous. but as
baseless and ridiculous as any other sign
or omen.
l do not, however, recollect that it
stood any higher in the country mind,
than the salt and looking glass decisions.
| remember Aunt jimmy setting hen
one day, with the belief that it was
! Thursday, an, on being informed that
she was a day behind in her calculations,
she hastily removed the eggs, but re-
collect that the harvest has been COM
menced, threshing begun, and the first
furrow plowed on that day, as though
unmindful of consequences.
1t was generally believed that the day
of days to put out cabbage plants was
| St. Patrick's Day Be the weather as it
might, it was proper to put out your
plants on that day, and as result they
would never be touched by the PERM
cious and destructive fly. No matter
how malicious and evil-minded fly
might be he drew line to his bad con-
| duct when he approached a cabbage
planted on St. Patrick's Day. This
| particular day is not celebrated for its
general demeanor; it is frequently rough
| and boisterous and not calculated to
encourage the tender cabbage plant fresh
! from its childhood's home. | could
never understand why this excellent Irish
| saint should feel any particular interest
| in the cabbage crop; it would seem more
| in accordance with the eternal fitness of
things if he stretched his protecting arm
| over the potato crop.
1t was of course held to be decidedly
impious as we'll as unlucky to do unnec-
essary work on Sunday. Old colored
men would point out to my eager eyes the
indistinct shadow visible in the moon, as
we crossed meadow on bright moon
! lit night, and gravely tell me it was the
visible remains of an industrious, but i'm
moral gentleman, who insisted on burn
ing brush on a Sunday.
There lived on a neighboring planta-
ton a negro named Raj. What that
stood for we could never disco yer, but
Raj johnson he was called as long as we
knew him. Raj was not religious man
in fact, devout colored people styled him
"worldlin'" but finally he yielded to
the eloquent and persuasive arguments
of Brother Squirrel, noted preacher and
evangelist, and became a changed man.
No more oaths, no more fighting
for Raj, but after the days work
was over and the dusky shades
of night were falling on the world, and
nature seemed composing herself to
sleep, then would the melodious voice of
Raj be raised in hymn or psalm. Often
have l listened to the mellow sweetness
of that voice, rising and falling in soft
cadences, sensible of emotions that we
did not feel, when trying to get our
moneys worth of music out of five
| dollar-a-seat prima donna. One of his
peculiarities was decided aversion to
work, and when, one hot July day, he
| was OTuereu among OtneTS TO get the nay
in the barrack to save it from an approach
ing storm, he was loud in" his dsnuncia-
| lions of the impiety of the act, for it was
Sunday. He declared most positively
that the barrack would be struck by
lightning and consumed. He watched
for the avenging stroke with morbid
eagerness, and whenever a storm arose
be would say, gleefully, She'll go dis
time sho'."
But Storms came and storms went,
| trees were shattered by the lightning's
bolt, but the barrack stood unscathed.
Finally the hay was safely removed and
sold. From that day Raj commenced to
backslide, and he rapidly slid further and
further back in the ranks of the unre-
generate. Worthy elders wrestled with
him, and finally Brother Squirrel took him
in hand; but all in vain. The affair of
the barrack had hopelessly unsettled the
religious convictions of Raj johnson,
and the last we heard of him was that he
was still outside "de circle of de
righteous" JAS. G. PLUMMER.